


Oopsie.

by Cartara



Category: Ultimate Spider-Man (Cartoon 2012)
Genre: First work - Freeform, How Do I Tag, Mesmero has too much confidence, One-Shot, Parent Nick Fury, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, USM - Freeform, but he's trying his best, but loves his friend, harry osborn is Tired, he's just trying to get the spider child to stay out of trouble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-12-09 06:29:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20990375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cartara/pseuds/Cartara
Summary: Peter was certain something was off about the wretched building and the people inside...Again.





	Oopsie.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Mystery_Name](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystery_Name/gifts).

> For one of my best friends in the literal whole wide world.

Fury had been  _ very _ clear towards Peter.

_ One more incident this week and you're on desk duty for a month. _

Which actually meant: nearly no training, extra classes, more homework, and  _ no patrols _ . And yeah, none of that was happening if he had anything to say about it. Being extremely wary and careful was the only idea he had when he had the scolding rolling around in his head, plaguing him the rest of the afternoon.

Maybe the Ultimates could take care of Manhattan while he took it slow. He could just...enjoy a weekend with May, or hang with Harry and MJ.

But of course, the universe had other plans for him. Friday afternoon, just after classes ended, he decided to swing back home. (Jumping off the Triskelion with his Web Wings never got old, no matter how many times he did it.) With sunset setting in and a small backpack slung over his shoulders, he made his way through New York, whooping as he did flips and ran over the glass panes of the skyscrapers.

He was about to pass Oscorp when his Spidey-Sense flared up and he jolted mid-air, making him miss his shot. Barely able to shoot another one, he managed to catapult himself over to another building. "What in the world..." he muttered to himself, holding a hand to his head. Sure, his Spidey-Sense could get a little extreme from time to time, but this? "Okay, what's gonna happen now, oh big brain of mine?" he asked aloud, scanning his surroundings.

The streets were running on their regular schedules: kids and adults alike making their way home for the weekend, some faster than others, and some were on their way into the city to celebrate the upcoming evening. (He was lucky he had convinced Luke to take Sam and make sure there was no trouble in the city center with the amount of people there.) 

His Spidey-Sense didn’t agree with him.

Since it was all sailing smoothly below, and he could spot nothing between the buildings, the dreaded feeling in his stomach only got worse with the second, just before his Spidey-Senses flared up again.

Oscorp.

Of course.

"There will be a day that I don't have anything to do with that company, but I don't think it's happening this decade," he said to himself as he shot a web and swung himself over, much to the enjoyment of some fans that had spotted him perching on the side of the building. He did a quick flip (maybe to shake off the fans, maybe for himself) and salute and was quick to scale the side of the skyscraper.

The fact that he knew half the layout of the ventilation system was as impressive as it was disappointing, but in the situation it proved to be more helpful than not. He moved through the boobytrapped-especially-for-him metal contraption with practiced ease. The backpack made it a little tricky, but he managed. Despite having helped out the Osborn’s for more times than he could count on one hand, Norman was still wary of him and his ability to sneak into his building without notice. Not that it mattered, of course. Norman was predictable with his traps, so it didn't take long before he found the source of his headache to be one himself.

Mesmero.

The way he was casually striding through the halls below the vents, as if he owned the building, without a care in the world, was really irking Peter. With his arms behind his back and his head high.

How that idiot had somehow escaped SHIELD was going to be discussed with some high officials later (being triple team leader and Fury's first recruit had its advantages), but for now, he was more focused on some saving and rescuing the man's captive.

Which was, with  _ his _ luck, his best friend for a  _ long _ time.  _ And _ the son of Norman Osborn,  _ owner _ of Oscorp.  ** _And_ ** someone who, if something were to happen to him, would undoubtedly be in the news.

Great. How was he going to solve  _ this _ without it attracting attention?

Harry was 'talking' to the guards outside the big office, Mesmero whistling innocently behind him. "I need to speak to my father," Harry was monotonously saying, movement minimum and eyes glazed over. "It is urgent."

He huffed at the predictable dialogue but kept quiet otherwise as the guards said the big boss was not present. Fury's little figurine was screaming at him from his shoulder to call backup, but he flicked him away and decided to take care of it quietly and quickly.

Watching how the guards were 'convinced' by Harry and let both him and Mesmero in, despite Norman's absence, and Mesmero dropping them to the ground, Peter swooped down. Catapulting himself through the doors and upwards, he stuck to the high ceiling with all fours, hanging deadly still as Mesmero looked back through the doors. The man huffed and closed the two grand doors behind him before turning to look at Harry. "Let's start, shall we?"

Harry didn't react verbally, and started moving towards the desk and sat down on the high chair behind it.

"Wait, let me dry my nails first!" Peter exclaimed as he dropped down, crouching between Harry and Mesmero. "I tried some new techniques I saw on the internet a while ago, and I'm really curious how they turned out." Harry kept typing on the keyboard of the computer, and Mesmero didn't seem too bothered with the situation. Peter had waited long enough and they were alone, without cameras, so he figured this was the opportune moment to strike.

"Your blabbering will not prevent me from doing what I do best, Spider-Man," Mesmero said, eyes starting to become hypnotizing little swirls of grays. The circle on top of his head was closed for the moment, but it wouldn't be long until it was like that no more. He spread his arms wide and looked up, momentarily looking away from the hero, who was sending worried glances over to Harry. "You shall not stop my plan today, Spider-Man!"

"Yeah, you mentioned that," he said before jumping high and shooting webbing at Mesmero's face. Mesmero was, miraculously, quick enough to dodge it and moved his hands back up to his sides, wiggling his fingers as if to start a magic trick. Which was also kinda true. The circular disc on his head opened just as the hero landed behind him, but he was quick enough to block the signal with his webs.

"Looks like playtime is over, Mesmero," Peter said, standing up straight and walking over to the big desk, where Harry had stopped typing on the keyboard. Since Mesmero couldn't possibly do anything with that disc of his covered with something other than Mesmero's own blockers, he waved a hand in front of his friend's face. "Earth to Harry Osborn. Hello?"

"It doesn't work like that, Spider-Man," Mesmero said. He grinned as the hero turned to him. "I need to give up my control over his mind first. I need my disc for that. And you just covered that.”

"First of all, gross," he shuddered, "second: how do I know you won't try anything?" He crossed his arms over his chest, straps of the backpack digging into his shoulders uncomfortably. "You tried things before, right? With me and Wolverine, Hulk, and then the Burrito Incident? You don't exactly have a clean track record in my book."

Mesmero shot a malicious grin back instead of answering.

_ 'Trust me or this person is forever under my control,' _ was the conclusion Peter came to after a few seconds. Pinching his nose through his mask, he realized he had to release him or Fury would definitely find out. He could handle  _ Mesmero _ , of all people. He'd be fine.  _ They'd _ be fine. "Alright," he grumbled as he shot webbing around the villain's arms and torso. At the surprised gasp, he shrugged. "Just making sure."

"Osborn," Mesmero grumbled, "get back here."

Peter watched how his friend moved around the desk and came to stand in front of them. "I'll dissolve it, but as soon as something's wrong, I won't hesitate." Honestly, it was Friday evening. He needed dinner, a good movie and his bed. His comfy, warm, homey bed. "Let's make this quick."

After a few... _ incidents _ in which Peter had gotten stuck in his webbing, he had decided a dissolving fluid wouldn't be the  _ worst _ to have on him when in the suit. Swapping his webbing for the dissolver, he pointed his wrist at Mesmero's head, while also sending a pointed look.

"Ready," Mesmero grinned back.

The feeling he would be trying something as soon as the webbing was gone got worse by the second, but Peter pressed the triggers anyway.

** _*Line-break brought to you by; Daily Bugle Communications*_ **

Maybe it hadn't been the smartest decision to release the abilities of a mutant-villain while he was supposed to be hanging around in his own home instead of fighting said villain, but in that specific moment, it didn't seem the stupidest thing he could've done.  **Not** having done that would have resulted in Fury finding out, Harry having something to be confused about again, and maybe worst of all, Nova finding out and pestering him with it together with Ava. Luke and Danny would at least be considerate, and the New Warriors would never find out.

The Web-Warriors, however, would've never let it live him down.

So the first thing Peter did when he registered he could move his body again, was looking around him and making sure no one saw what'd happened. The first thing he  _ noticed _ was that he was lying on the floor, so he propped himself up with his elbows. The second thing he noticed was that Mesmero was gone, webs half-dissolved on the floor and the doors closed, presumably barricaded from the outside.

The third thing he noticed was the fact that he wasn't wearing his mask anymore.

The familiar high-tech HUD and whatnot had disappeared from his vision, and Peter shot into a panic. But what was even stranger, was that when he  _ did _ manage to sit up and hold his hand to his head, his gloves were also gone, and his sleeves were a dark grayish-blue sweater, cuffs of a white shirt peeking out from under them.

"Oh  _ no _ ."

"'Oh no,' indeed."

Peter looked up, only to find  _ Spider-Man _ staring back at him.

"Oh  _ hell _ no."

"Pete, I need you to explain this to me," Spider-Man (?) said to him, slowly. "Because I'm  _ very _ confused."

"Just to be sure before I do anything," Peter huffed in a small panic. "Harry?"

"Gosh, yes, Pete. Who else would I be." He crossed his arms after making an exasperated gesture, but decided to grab at the mask instead. Pulling it off, Harry, in Peter's body, looked back at him. "I get what happened, don't need a 'how', but it'd be nice to find the undo-button." He grimaced at himself. "Your puns are actually still coming out of your mouth even when you're not there."

"Please don't make this worse than it is," Peter groaned, rolling back onto his back, palms over his eyes. "Fury is going to have my head for letting Mesmero escape, and then he'll stuff me for letting this—" he gestured between the two of them— "happen. Oh, let's not forget Aunt May. The teams..."

"Pete, calm down," Harry interjected as he scooted closer from where he was sitting. Putting one hand on his shoulder, he made his friend look at him. "Let's say, pure hypothetically, that is, that they don't find out?"

"No," Peter immediately said, shooting up to sit. "No, I tried before, and trust me, it's not going to work."

Harry shot him a tired look. "They were Wolverine and the Hulk."

"...So..?"

"Besides," Harry shrugged, "how hard can it be? I sit around in your home, pretending... I don't know, being sick, and you go on a vacation to Europe or something. We both lay low until this blows over, and no one will know!" He smiled victoriously as he lay out his plan. "Outsmarting you for once feels  _ good _ ."

Peter sighed before giving Harry a stern look. "Three things: One, I literally  _ cannot _ become sick, so May will become suspicious and will send me to Connors suspecting Doc Ock did something. You  _ don't _ want to end up back in the Triskelion in  _ that _ situation. Fury will find out and it'll be over. Two:  _ you _ can't just disappear without talking to many,  _ many _ people, and I don't see that going anywhere  _ near _ good. Three--"

"We need him to revert us back," Harry groaned, catching on. His eyes darted around the room for ideas. "So...we go after him?"

"I go after him," Peter said stubbornly. "I... _ Spider-Man _ is supposed to be back at school on Monday morning! I can't just disappear! Especially with Fury breathing down my neck for another week. I'll...I don't know, ask Deadpool for help or something. He won't snitch on us, so he's the only one I can think of."

"My father can help!" Harry suddenly realized aloud. He met Peter's frowning gaze and smile excitedly. "If we say it happened while you were here for a visit and he suddenly barged in, and we tried to defend ourselves, he never has to know about Spider-Man being involved! He'll think it was an accident and he'll help us hunt him down."

"Yeah, I don't think that is a good idea. No offense, Harry," he tentatively said, "but I don't see that going right. I know he has changed, but..." Sighing, he pulled a hand through his hair at Harry's beaten-down expression. "Can you blame me..?"

"...No. But it still hurts."

"Please, Harry." Tone turning desperate, he looked his friend in his eyes. "We can do this. The  _ two of us _ can do it."

Harry pinched his nose before looking at Peter. "Let me get this straight. _You_ want to impersonate _me_ for an undetermined amount of time, _I_ need to impersonate _you_ for that same amount, we have to make _absolutely_ _sure_ no one finds out, **_and_** hunt down a villain that could be halfway across the world by now?"

Peter fiddled with his fingers. "He's probably not halfway across the world yet..." he mumbled. 

"Really, Pete?"


End file.
